


Bow To Me

by blueelvewithwings



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom!Len, Kneeling, M/M, Mick's Cooking, Non-Sexual Kink, Punishment, Safe Sane and Consensual, Self-Esteem Issues, Spanking, Sub!Mick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21863509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings
Summary: When Mick messes up at a heist, he knows he's spiralling down into self-loathing, and that there's only one thing that can set him right again. Of course, Len is happy to oblige...
Relationships: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52
Collections: Coldwave Winter Holiday Exchange 2019





	Bow To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophiaCatherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/gifts).



> It was a blessing and a curse to find out that I'd be writing for the one and only Soph for this exchange - a blessing because I think I can judge fairly well what Soph likes by now, and because they basically gave me a no-brainer prompt by featuring spanking... but also a curse because now I couldn't yell at Soph about spanky, kinky writings, and I couldn't throw them snippets, and I couldn't ask them to beta for me like I usually would... A lot of thanks to Hale for taking over the beta responsibility here <3 But I survived and I persevered, and now I can surprise them with not only a spanking, but also a kneeling scene!!  
> Happy holidays, Soph, I hope you enjoy <333
> 
> Original Prompt by SophiaCatherine: BDSM fic. After a heist goes wrong, Mick blames himself. He needs a scene to get him out of his head. Len obliges. Smut is fine, but optional, as long as there’s kink :) Kinks could include: kneeling, spanking, rope bondage, handcuffs, any other light or harder kinks *except* please no pet play or age play.

The door was barely even closed before Mick turned around to Len, trying to put into words what he felt.

„Sorry“, he murmured, squirming on the spot while Len just looked at him, his face absolutely expressionless.

„Sorry I‘m such a fuck up, Boss.“ He balled his hands into fists and relaxed them again only to ball them up again directly afterwards. He toed off his boots in a way that he knew would only destroy them in the long run, but he needed a way to let out his energy that wasn‘t setting the house on fire.

He‘d just done that, after all.

Only it hadn‘t been a random house, it had been the City Museum, and now cops were sure to be on their ass and he‘d busted the heist and they hadn‘t even be able to take anything out with them so it hadn‘t even worked at all and Mick had messed up all the planning and all the careful work the others had done and he was such an idiot and such a fuck-up and he knew he didn‘t deserve his place in the crew and they were right to hate him and he wasn‘t worth anything and -

„Mick.“ As usual, Len‘s voice managed to drag him out of his head just about instantly. He shuddered and dragged his eyes up from where they‘d been glued to the floor, looking up far enough to almost lock eyes with Mick.

„Mick, what was that?“

„I said...“ He cleared his throat and then forced himself to make eye contact with Len.

„I said I‘m sorry I‘m such a fuck up, Boss.“ He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he met Len‘s eyes, dark and unforgiving, but there was no way he could take it back again now.

„And why do you think that?“ Len asked him, his voice betraying nothing of the storm that was brewing in his eyes.

„It‘s cuz I didn‘t see the leak in the pipes and set the whole museum on fire“, Mick replied, knowing that at this point, it wouldn‘t do to lie at all. He looked away from Len again, unable to bear looking at those eyes any longer.

„And that makes you a fuck up?“ Len questioned, and Mick nodded mutely. It did, after all. He was their fire guy, and their muscle, and he‘d set the whole thing on fire before they‘d even had the chance to clear it out….

„Answer me.“ Len‘s voice was made of steel now, and Mick felt like it cut right through him.

„Yes… yes, Sir. That makes me a fuck-up.“ He dared to glance up again and only saw that unreadable expression again before Len gave him one singular nod before pointing at the couch table.

„Pants off, underwear off, hands on the table. Then tell me your safeword.“

Without a word, Mick walked over and took off his pants, and then his underwear, as instructed. Both of it went onto the couch, folded neatly into a pile, and he bent over to put his hands on the couch table. He took a moment and closed his eyes, trying to push down his panic. Len would take care of him now, he knew that. He‘d show him how wrong he‘d been, and punish him for it, so he could be a good boy again and less of a fuck up.

„Safeword‘s lettuce“ he told Len, and held himself very still. „Sir.“

Len just let out a little hum behind him, barely enough to let Mick know that he‘d heard and accepted his safeword. He let his head hang down, trying to get the pictures out of his head. The pipes catching fire and the flames spreading, beautiful and gorgeous and so deadly, licking up everything that was in their way and getting close to the crew, close to Lenny, and Mick just standing there, frozen in fear. And that was a problem, wasn‘t it? The pyro, the fire-lover, frozen in fear at the thought of his beloved fire consuming his beloved partner… really, Mick wanted to burn down the person who‘d made him into such a mess.

A touch to his behind jolted him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the moment.

„Maybe the belt would be best for this crime“, Len spoke behind him, his bare hand running over Mick‘s bare skin. „But I think what will teach you best is a hand spanking. Just my hand on your ass, spanking you until you have learned your lesson, until you have paid for fucking up like you did. Is that clear?“

Mick winced at the clear confirmation that he had indeed fucked up, but he nodded quickly, not wanting to enrage Len any further.

„Is that clear?“ Len asked him again, with a swift swat to Mick‘s behind, and he yelped, already realising his mistake.

„Clear, Sir“, he told Len, his voice shaky, but firm enough to convey that he meant it. Damn Len, never starting things without explicit consent, no matter how much it was clear that Mick just needed this.

„Good. I will start then.“

And with that, Len set a brutal pace, not so much going fast, but very harshly letting his hand come down every single time, making sure that Mick could feel each and every slap, every time Len‘s hand connected with his skin. And in no time, his skin was burning, even though Mick knew it was barely even pink at this point. But it burned, just like the fire had burned in the museum, spreading and eating up everything in its way, destroying what was around it and in it with no regard for anything, getting bigger and bigger and hotter and hotter and… He winced at a specifically harsh slap, landed precisely where Len wanted it to land – in the crease between his ass and his thigh, right where the skin was most sensitive and where the pinpricks of pain would almost wreck Mick with a single swat. His knees buckled at that, but Len‘s other hand was like steel on his hip, unmoving stone that held him in place with nowhere to go until Len deemed him punished enough to be allowed to move.

Len, always a sucker for perfection and symmetry, landed a swat on Mick‘s other thigh, right in the crease up to the ass again, and Mick groaned, feeling his knees go weak again. He panted, letting his head hang deeper down and balling his hands into fists on top of the table to try and keep the pain at bay.

„Relax your hands.“ The command came immediately, in a voice that made it clear that disobedience would not be tolerated. Mick took a deep breath and uncurled his hands again, resting them flat against the surface of the table again. He knew that he‘d ruin his hands with balling them up like that and putting so much pressure on them, that his joints wouldn‘t keep up with that for very long, and then Len would be mad at him for hurting himself, and he might need to punish him more.

„Good boy“, Len praised him, and Mick felt something in him relax at that, sink into the knowledge that Len would forgive him eventually, that once he‘d get through his, he would be Len‘s good boy again.

„Thank you, Sir“; he grunted, making the extra effort to speak up. He wanted Len to see how grateful he truly was to have Len as a Dom and to be set right again by him. Words were hard, but for Len, he‘d always try.

He flinched at the next slap but didn‘t say anything, knowing that he had really, really earned this spanking. And somehow this didn‘t feel harsh, or bad…. He knew Len was upset with him for fucking up, but the way he was punishing him… Mick never felt bad when Len was spanking him by hand. It felt too personal, too caring for him to really feel bad, to slip into that panic of not knowing whether Len would be able to forgive him after this. Hand spankings were his favourite, the ones that made him feel the most calm, the most loved, but also, weirdly, the most punished and chastised. There was something about having his ass beaten with a hand that made him feel small and humilated in a way that a spanking with implements never did.

„Now, I want you to take away from this that you are our expert on pyrotechnics, and as such you will be expected to keep an eye on any leakings, and danger, anything that could interfere with what you have planned for the end of the heist, anything that could be a danger to the men. And you thoroughly failed that today… That is not acceptable, is that clear?“

Mick nodded, swallowing a wince at the sharp slaps and the harsh words out of his Dom‘s mouth.

„I know...I know I messed up… I will be better, Sir. Pay more attention.“ Attention was hard, sometimes, but he knew he needed to work on his focus for the heists, to keep their men safe, and to keep Len safe, most of all. Len was a reckless little fucker, after all, and for some reason he trusted Mick to keep him safe. Why he did that was beyond Mick, but he‘d long since stopped asking questions about it.

One final, harsh slap, and then he could hear Len stepping back. „Nice and red. Think you learned your lesson now?“

„Thank you, Sir. I will be better next time“, Mick murmured, but kept his position. He hadn‘t been told that he was allowed to stand up, after all. He could hear Len walk around the room beside him, and after a little while something fell down on the floor just before Len sat down on the sofa, where Mick could see him out of the corner of his eyes.

„Mick.“

Mick looked over at Len then, joints protesting as he finally pushed himself up into a standing position again, and he saw Len sitting there, the same hard expression on his face, and he was pointing down to a cushion next to his feet.

_Oh no._

Mick swallowed, but took a step towards Len.

„Sir, I...“ He raised his eyes to look up from the cushion at Len, who just looked back at him with a blank expression. „I thought you‘d… I‘m sorry.“ He‘d thought his punishment would be over now, but really, Len always told him when punishments where over, which he hadn‘t. He‘d just asked him if he‘d learned his lesson, and Mick had assumed things were over then. „May I… why?“

The tiniest of smiles played around Len‘s lips then, and he inclinded his head almost imperceptibly.

„Kneel, pet.“

Mick stepped closer and took a deep breath, then sank down on his knees as gracefully as he could, his knees and back loudly protesting against the movement. As soon as he‘d positioned himself on the cushion, he could feel his Master‘s hand coming to rest on his shoulder, grounding him.

„You have been punished for not paying enough attention, and for allowing the heist to go that disastrously“, Master explained. „Now tell me, what else do you need to be punished for?“

Mick frowned, trying to think of something. He‘d fucked up and things had gone wild, but his Master had punished him for that infraction already… and he‘d said that that part of the punishment was over, so it would need to be for something else now… something else that Mick couldn‘t figure out…

„Sir, I… I don‘t know, Sir.“, Mick mumbled, feeling himself blush even as he stared resolutely down at the couch cushions, tracing the little folds and tears in the fabric with his eyes as if they held the solution to his problems.

„No? I‘ll explain it do you then.“ Master squeezed his shoulder, and Mick felt himself calm down immediately. Master was going to explain things, and it was going to be alright.

„You are my good little pet, are you not?“ Master asked him, and Mick looked up at him, making eye contact so he could see that this was a serious question. But Master wasn‘t mocking him, he was calmly looking at Mick as if he had just stated the most obvious fact in the world.

„I… I try, Sir“, he told him then, wondering where this was going.

„I know, pet, I know. Now tell me, what are the rules for being my good little pet again?“

This one, Mick could answer. Master had made him learn the rules by heart, after all.

„Follow Master‘s orders. Be respectful to Master. Speak up when uncomfortable. Be kind to pet… oh.“ He looked down again, suddenly feeling ashamed. He should have known that this was coming.

„Very good. See, you said it yourself. Be kind to my pet. And have you done that?“

Mick mutely shook his head.

„No, you really haven‘t. What mean thing did you say about my pet again?“

„I...“ Mick swallowed and closed his eyes. „I said I‘m a fuck-up, Sir.“

„That you did. And that is not true. You are my good boy, and I will not hear you talk about yourself that way.“

Mick nodded and pressed his lips together, not really knowing what he could respond to something like that.

„Now, pet. You know how it‘s going. Hands behind your back, back straight. You‘re kneeling for me so you can feel that I‘m in charge, that I know what is best for you, but I will not have you slump like a lazy kid.“

Immediately, Mick straightened his back and put his arms behind his back, folding his hands together. His gaze automatically went down, lowering his eyes in that submissive way he never usually would admit to liking. But at times like these… Master was right, he knew best. And he would take care of Mick, Mick just knew that.

„Good boy“, Master told him, and Mick‘sl ips pulled into a smile even as his back and knees continued to protest and ache, making him want nothing more than to get back up and sit on the sofar next to Len. But that was not his place now, his place was to kneel at Master‘s feet to make up for being mean to himself. He didn‘t quite understand how it was so important to Master, but Master was always very adamant about the fact that Mick should not say mean things about himself. If Mick did something wrong, it was Master‘s job to punish him, Master always told him, not his own. And it was true… Master had punished him for being so bad at the heist, and now he was punishing him again because Mick had taken away Master‘s prerogative to punish him by punishing himself, calling himself names and thinking mean thoughts about himself. He whould leave that to Master, he knew that… Master would punish him better, in a more helpful way. But it was hard to remember that, sometimes, when they weren‘t in a scene and Mick was not in the headspace to be a pet, or an obedient sub. It was hard to try and not judge himself, to not want to punish himself.

He knew that Master was this strict with Mick being kind to himself because he loved him. He wouldn‘t allow anyone he loved to be talked about like that, and that included Mick putting himself down. And he tried. He tried to accept it, that it was Master who would punish him, who would set him right again, but it didn‘t always work. But even then, Master would come and set him right again, would not drop him or get angry but he‘d do exactly what Mick needed him to do without even knowing it.

His knees started aching and his back was long since protesting, but he knelt there, trying to take comfort in Len‘s hand on his shoulder. It wasn‘t easy like this, to give up his pride and lower himself in front of his Dom, letting him see him vulnerable like this, in a way that was somehow too soft for how they usually were. But Len‘s hand on his shoulder… it helped ground him, helped him keep in mind that his Master wasn‘t judging him, but rather guiding him to be a better person, a better pet for his Master.

And Mick wanted to be just that. He wanted to be so good for Len. He wanted that rough but gentle voice to praise him, wanted those hands to pet him gently, giving him all the affection he‘d never thought himself worthy of. He wanted his Master to be proud of him, to keep him, and to just… accept him as he was.

Logically thinking, Mick knew that Len would always accept him as he was, self-deprecating speech, destructive behaviour and all. But still, he wanted to make his Master proud, and he wanted to serve him. And now, all he‘d done was inconvenience his Master, making him take time out of his day to punish Mick, to sit here and babysit his pet while it should have been Mick who was serving his Master, cooking a dinner for him while Master relaxed on the couch, or maybe Mick could given him a massage, or they could have cuddled up in bed or taken a bath or…

It was Len‘s hand on the top of his head that brought him back and out of his spiralling thoughts, and that made him realise that he‘d started to cry.

„That‘s it, pet… let it all out“; Master murmured and Mick could feel him bend down and rest his lips on his shaved head in the gentlest of kisses. „I‘m here, Mick. I‘m here… just let it go.“

And with that, Mick couldn‘t hold back anymore and started to cry for real, his own forehead coming to rest on his Master‘s thigh as he sobbed, crying out his frustration with himself and how sorry he was that he‘d disappointed his Master and the pain in his joints, aching and screaming at him to get up but he couldn‘t get up because Master had commanded him to kneel, and Mick would kneel for his Master and prostrate himself in front of him if he so demanded because Mick was his Master‘s pet and he would obey him and please him in any way that Master saw fit, and Mick hated his body for betraying him like that, for not allowing him to fully dedicate himself to kneeling for his Master by leaving him in pain, but Mick shouldn‘t hate himself because Master wanted him to be kind to himself, but he couldn‘t be kind to himself if his own damn body was hating him and when he was hurting so much and his knees were feeling like they would fall apart and when he didn‘t know how he‘d get up again later and -

He took a deep breath between his sobs, closing his eyes and leaning against Master‘s thigh more heavily, enjoying the feeling of Master‘s hands gently stroking his scalp and neck.

„I‘m here for you, Mick. I promise I‘m here“, Len murmured, and Mick nodded against his thigh, not ready to face the challenge of pushing himself back up again, straightening his back and looking at his Master. So for now, he stayed where he was, with his face buried in Len‘s thigh, his hands behind his back as he knelt on the cushion. Despite the soft padding under his knees, it felt like the concrete floor was trying to break his joints apart, but he did not move. This was his punishment, after all.

They were quiet for a while as Mick‘s sobs slowly started to quiet down, but Len‘s hands never stopped moving over his head, never stopped reminding him that he was there, that he would always catch Mick if he fell.

Once Mick‘s tears had stopped for good, Len gently tapped Mick‘s cheek and then slid a finger under his chin to tilt his face up so Mick could meet his eyes.

„Tell me who you are.“

„I‘m…. I‘m your good boy, Sir?“

„That‘s right. You‘re my good boy, and you‘ve been so very good for me today.“ Len moved forward, off the couch, and let himself go down on one knee beside Mick, keeping his face in his hands but making them be on eye level with one another again. „So very good“, he told Mick, his voice low but very intense as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Mick‘s.

„But… I messed up the heist“, Mick protested, but Len just shook his head.

„You did, but you took your punishment so well. Even though I had to punish you twice, you didn‘t even complain once… You‘re such a good boy for me. I‘m always so proud to have you as my sub.“

Mick deflated at that, leaning against Len and resting against his torso, basking in the praise his Dom was bestowing upon him. His body was still aching, his joints screaming at him to get up, but it was much more bearable now, knowing that Len was proud of him, that he was forgiven for messing up earlier in the day, and for calling himself names that he was not allowed to use on himself… Len was such a forgiving Dom, and such a loving partner…

„How are you doing?“ Len asked him and reached around Mick, taking hold of his wrists and gently bringing them towards the front, relieving Mick‘s shoulders of the pressure they‘d been under for too long. Mick immediately used the freedom of his hands to reach out and grasp Len‘s waist so he could lean into him better and feel closer to him. He always felt the need for physical closeness after he‘d been sovulnerable, after a scene, and luckily, Len always let him have it. He could feel Len‘s arms around himself now, holding him close in a cuddle even while Mick still knelt in front of him as if begging for the forgiveness he‘d long since gotten.

„Knees hurt“, he got out, and he could feel Len nodding from where their cheeks were pressed together. Len pulled back then, just enough so he could place his hands on Mick‘s arms.

„Alright. Come on, I‘ll help you up.“ And with that, he stood, gently guiding Mick upwards with him as he did so. Mick‘s knees creaked and protested and ached almost more now that he was moving them again, but he obediently followed Len up into a standing position, stretching his back and his knees to feel them crack and hopefully settled back into a less painful mode now that he wasn‘t down on the floor anymore. He sighed as he was standing there and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking at Len. Len for his part was just calmly looking back at Mick and then leaned in to give him a kiss once Mick looked at him, a kiss that Mick returned all too eagerly.

„Couch?“ he asked and pointed to where he‘d been sitting until a few minutes ago, but Mick shook his head. Standing was good for now, his knees needed a bit of respite before he‘d bend them again for sitting down.

„Food?“ he suggested instead and tilted his head to the kitchen. „And shower?“

Len nodded and pulled Mick over into the kitchen by grabbing his hand and entwining their fingers. „Wanna watch me as I make dinner?“

„I think you got it wrong, you watch me while I make dinner“, Mick corrected him, confused when Len frowned at him.

„But this is aftercare, I‘m supposed to do stuff for you now“, Len protested.

„Aw, Lenny. I like cooking. And I don‘t think a meal cooked by you would qualify as aftercare.“

He got a hit over the head with a kitchen towel for that, but Len leaned in for another kiss before taking a step back. „Well, if you insist… can I help you though?“

They ended up standing side by side in the kitchen, Len clumsily cutting up the ingredients that Mick then tossed in a pan for a simple one-pan-dinner. After all this, he wasn‘t really in the mood for anything special or fancy. Len still looked at it as if he was doing magic, it was so cute. He didn‘t know how Len still hadn‘t picked up on cooking, but while Mick was always able to set everything but the kitchen on fire, the kitchen was the one thing that Len could reliably burn down if he so much as attempted to microwave some leftovers.

Really, he didn‘t know how Lenny had survived before Mick came along and made sure he was being properly fed.

Soon after, they did curl up on the couch with their dinner, Len half in Mick‘s lap and snuggled up against him, Mick with his arm around Len and his bowl resting on Len‘s thigh even as he ate out of it. Being together for twenty-five years came with the perks that somewhere down the line, you had managed to work out how to simultaneously cuddle and eat. And that, in Mick‘s eyes, was a very important achievement.

„You good?“ Len asked him, waiting for Mick to bring his hand up to his mouth before he did the same with his own spoon to avoid collision. Mick nodded, knowing that Len would feel the movement of his muscles even without seeing him do it.

„Got a sore ass“, he then added, for good measure, and delighted in Len chuckling lightly.

„Guess someone gave you a good spanking“, he deadpanned, and Mick very gently slapped him upside the head.

„Maybe I deserved it“, he grumbled, and Len actually pushed himself up enough to look at Mick at that, almost throwing down Mick‘s bowl in the process. „What“, Mick grumbled and reached out to catch his bowl, putting it back on its place on Len‘s thigh. „You know I needed it.“

„Yeah, that I do“, Len murmured and then leaned in to give Mick a kiss, which he returned all too happily. Aftercare time was a time where it was okay to be all snuggly and mushy, after all.

„What about… the other thing?“ Len asked him, and Mick guided him back against his chest so he was nicely cuddled up there again, where he belonged.

„Ah. Back and knees are gonna be sore for a while.“

„But. you‘re going to be alright? I can get you a heating pad“, Len suggested, and Mick actually paused to think about that for a while. Right now the pain certainly wasn‘t enough to warrant medication, but some warmth… well, even if it wouldn‘t do anything, it would be comfy, at least.

„The seedy pillow?“ he asked, and as a response he got a kiss on the cheek and a Len that disentangled himself from Mick, leaving his bowl on his own thigh. Mick put the bowl on the side table and made to follow Len, but he waved him off.

„I can heat up a seedy pillow by myself, Mick“; Len drawled, and Mick had to hold back a chuckle. Warming one of Mick‘s many heating pads, seedy pillows and hot water bottles was about the only thing that Len could be trusted with in the kitchen after he‘d spend countless nights padding down into the kitchen to bring Mick something nice and warm to relief the pain in his joints and his back just a little bit for a small while.

Mick smiled when Len came back with the heated pillow, and even leaned forward enough so that Len could easily place it behind his back.

„Thanks.“ He held his arms open and Len climbed back onto the sofa and slotted himself against Mick‘s side again to cuddle up with him.

„So… shower after dinner?“

„Mh… or just cuddles and bed? Unsure about standing in the shower...“

Len nodded against his chest and resumed his eating, even though their dinner was mostly cooled down by now. Mick also started on the rest of his dinner that had magically found his way back onto Len‘s thigh.

„You need something for your knees?“, Len asked him, guessing correctly that the problem about the shower would be Mick‘s knees.

„Nah. I‘m good. Just some rest, probably.“

„But you‘ll tell me if you need anything, right?“, Len inquired, in that earnest voice that meant he truly was serious about what he was requesting. Mick smiled at that little detail and nodded again. He knew that if it would be bad, he wouldn‘t need to tell Len anyway because he‘d realise it by himself anyway.

„Thank you“, he grumbled instead, and put his empty bowl aside on the seat next to him.

„For putting up with me n shit.“

Len took the last two bites out of his own bowl and then stretched himself out to put it into Mick‘s empty bowl before climbing into Mick‘s lap like a cat and curling up there.

„No, you got it the wrong way around. Thank _you_. For allowing me to have you like this. For being mine.“

And really, there was not much that Mick could say to this.

„Yours, Lenny. Always.“


End file.
